


Stories of Thedas Vol. 2

by Vandariel



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Other
Language: Deutsch
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29920407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vandariel/pseuds/Vandariel
Summary: I'm trying myself in some short stories of Thedas! This is a prompt list made by the lovely Manuka so please check their works as well!
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Campfire

Freydis was never particularly talkative. Mostly she just sat around the campfire and watched the dancing flames and the starlit sky. Lost in her contemplations, she poked at the blazing fire - alone. She was in charge of the watch this night. Only the crackling of wood and the soft chirping of birds could be heard around her. She turned around briefly and shook her head roguishly as she looked over at the tents of her companions who already were sleeping. Suddenly she heard someone walking towards the campfire, the thin branches cracking and the grass rippling with each step. 

"I've never seen you smile like that before." remarked the former Templar Alistair and and smirked as Freydis pouted.

He sat down with her and kept her company for a bit. Casually, he angled his knee and rested his arm on it. 

"Tell me, what was that funny little Cousland thinking just now?"

"Shouldn't you be asleep?" she evaded coolly. 

"I could - but I can't. That's why I'm sitting here with you."

Freydis knew she couldn't shake him off so easily but did she want to? Somewhere deep in her heart she was enjoying the company of the mercurial Grey Warden and she gave in with a short sigh.

"I...I was just thinking what a lively bunch we are. I mean..." she broke off briefly, summing up her thought.

"...a grumpy sorceress from the wilderness." Freydis could already hear Morrigan shouting "Hey!" in her mind.

"...A Qunari who secretly steals biscuits from children. A former daughter of the chantry who knows martial arts and weapons and a sorceress from the Circle who keeps the group together and sane with so much wisdom that she could be our mother. And..." 

Alistair sat up eagerly and listened to her words. She didn't miss his curious glance and she too leaned forward and grinned cheekily over at him.

"And a Mabari who likes to steal other people's socks!"

Alistair pouted and crossed his arms in a huff. 

"Oh and I'm not part of your "great troupe" hm?"

Freydis laughed light-heartedly and leaned back a little. "I'm just kidding! Of course you're part of it." she replied chuckling to the Grey Warden. 

"Oh yeah? What am I to you then?" he asked seriously and Freydis fell silent.

"Someone I like very much." she would like to answer, but instead she blushed and cleared her throat briefly. 

"You...you're the funny one in the troupe." she stammered a little. She knew that wasn't answer enough. She wanted to show him in a subtle way how grateful she actually was to know him. 

"You are someone who cares a lot about others and without you I don't think I would be here. You've taught and explained a lot to me in such a short time. And I feel safe when you're around, like now for example." she added, slightly abashed, looking back at the fire. Alistair's expression spoke volumes - who would have thought Freydis could be so talkative after all? And above all - so sweet and open-hearted.


	2. Shiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you want to know what happened before, check out Vanadey's backstory "Bloodstained"

Vanadey Lavellan did not know where Isabela's ship was taking her. Zevran said fleetingly during the escape that it was going to Ferelden - nothing more. Still in shock and adrenaline, she lay in the hammock in the cabin. Try as she might, she couldn't get a wink of sleep.

"Damn." she muttered softly, leaning to one side and stretching out her arm. She stretched long and tried diligently to reach her small cloth bag. Her dainty fingers hooked onto the loop and with a tug she pulled the bag towards her and took out Zevran's dagger. 

The ship rocked back and forth but the former crow cared little. Even as a child, she liked to hang around Antiva's harbour and hide in ships - thanks the Maker, she never sailed away anywhere. Zevran always knew where the nimble vixen was hanging out and got her out of danger more than once. 

She examined the dagger, turning it in all directions. Her eyes sparkled with pride - this was her greatest treasure. The very fine grooves on the blade told of the adventures and deaths during the blight. The handle was decorated with floral patterns and was still in good condition except for a few cuts. 

"How beautiful you shine in the light..." she enthused as she noticed the reflection of the small oil lamp beside her. She heard a creak in the background - it was Zevran entering the cabin from the deck. As if falling through a thousand soft clouds, he also fell into his hammock and put his hands to the back of his head. 

"What an evening, Antiva is always good for surprises."

"I can't believe she...never mind. Antiva is a thing of the past - for now." she remarked with a hopeful smile. Zevran glanced over at her and could already smell her curiosity when he saw her lying there with his dagger.

"Do you like it?"

"It is beautiful. Almost flawless. And you really used that against the Darkspawn?" she asked as her eyes sparkled with curiosity about old stories of the former Crow. Zevran nodded in agreement, perhaps with a bit of pride on his face. 

"Tell me, what was it like back then? So...fighting the Darkspawn?" She asked cautiously, putting the dagger away again to listen carefully to the elf. Zevran sat up straight and watched the fire in the oil lamp. 

"It was gruesome and amusing at the same time. The most annoying part was probably wiping the rotten blood off the armour. But I do miss the hike to Denerim, the evenings together in camp from time to time..."

His voice trailed off softly and his eyes caught the shine of the dagger point. He chuckled briefly within himself as the nostalgic feeling overcame him. 

"The dagger I gave you once belonged to a bard from Orlais. Leliana was a very good and loyal friend. She probably understood me best. I don't know where she is. I haven't seen her for years - I wonder if she still sings her ballads..."


	3. Seducer

And again Hawke got into trouble - Who would've thought. Anders was already shaking his head in bewilderment when he saw her swollen cheek and bruises. 

"So what was it? Did someone take the beer from under your nose? Or did you have to defend Isabela because of her sharp tongue?"

Hawke smirked slightly and sat down. She looked up at the mage with a sly smile - well she tried while suppressing the pain of the swelling.

"Neither of those things."

"By the Maker Hawke - Oh, I won't ask any more." he clasped his forehead and retrieved a jar of healing ointment from a box. The two had known each other for so long and Anders could already guess that Loraine had been messing with the Templars again. Although she was also a mage like him, she settled some situations with her fist, thank the Maker she was not put in a prison. With a gesture, the blond mage asked the woman with the raven-black long hair to sit down and he turned on the pot. He dipped his fingertips lightly into the ointment and applied it carefully to her cheek. 

His gaze did not leave her ruby eyes which sparkled menacingly but also very seductively. With slow, circular movements, he massaged the ointment into her skin. Loraine studied his gaze - his auburn eyes flattering his strawberry-blond hair which was loosely tied, that small caretaking smile and the way he unconsciously bit his lips for a moment as he continued to drool over her. She had been longing for her mage for a while now, but she never quite knew how to show her affection for him. She knew that Anders didn't really have to treat her like that, with a flick of his fingers he would have healed her with magic. Unobtrusively, she leaned forward a little.

Anders heart beat faster, his thoughts a little confused. "Anders she's a seducer, I don't like to see it." said Justice deep in his mind. For a brief moment he focused his thoughts. "She isn't." he cut Justice off and dipped his fingers into the jar again - The perfect opportunity for Loraine to lean forward a little more longing for some more intimacy. Anders took no notice of her intentions and glanced at Hawke's wrist which he gently massaged with the salve. 

"Why don't you use magic, Anders? It would be so much qui-" her voice trailed off as she felt his gentle, circling pressure on her wrist. Hawke had to be careful not to groan outright in the clinic like a Nox Morta and suppressed it with a hummen. Concerned, he stopped and looked worriedly at her.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, I..." she stuttered.

A realised "Oh!" came over Anders lips and with an impish look he continued. A dull hum came over him and he glanced briefly at Hawke.

"You seem to like it huh? Maybe that's why I didn't use magic."

Loraine felt her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment and cleared her throat as she caught his subtly lustful, mischievous gaze. 

"Now don't look at me like that I..." 

"Done. Best not get yourself into any trouble for now." the mage laughed light-heartedly and felt a hot wall pass over him as he suddenly felt her soft, dark red lips against his cheek. 

"Thank you, dear Mr Anders."

Loraine stood up and left his clinic in a slightly lascivious gait. Anders gave a short gasp and shook his head.

"You're right Justice, she's already got me wrapped around her finger."


	4. Magic

"So tell me...this "bone" magic -" Vivienne asked in a cautious tone. Dhara wondered why the first enchanter was asking her - a nomad from Anderfels - about her powers. They were more or less stomping through the sand and the sun was beating directly into their faces while the vultures circled around them. 

"Yes what do you want to know?" Dhara asked meekly, but her heart was racing. Vivienne was a woman of elegance and grace, possibly also someone who would condemn her for such blood magic. 

"I have heard of this ability before, but how do you perform it my dear?"

Dhara tried to find the right words and played with the fangs which were tied around her arm with a leather strap.

"I can't always use this kind of magic. You could say the dead come when I need help. They can hear me, but I can't hear them. "

Suddenly the two ladies heard Blackwall and the Iron Bull roar - Venatori approaching. 

"Well wonderful, the perfect opportunity to show you off my dear." commented Vivienne and Dhara nodded challengingly. She knew the Venatori wanted her and she was in focus too. While Blackwall and the Iron Bull took care of the one group of Venatori, Vivienne protected them by weeding out the archers with lightning attacks. 

Dhara Lavellan first performed fire magic and already felt an unpleasant vibration flowing in her arms as if something was taking possession of her - this time she had to let her fear overcoming her. The Venatori were not the only perfect opportunity but also everything that was buried under the hot sand. Vivienne watched fleetingly as the elf exerted her power. A violet gleam enveloped her and Dhara murmured something to herself - it was impossible to tell what language she was speaking, not even she knew. Dhara herself said it was like a call to the dead from the underworld. Her eyes glowed purple and human and animal bones slowly rose from the sand. They floated around her as if it were a protective wall. Before any of the Venatori could attack, she broke some bones in two and like sharp arrows they pierced through the bandits.

Every break, every hit hurt inside her as if she herself was suffering the pain of her victims - but that is the price Dhara has to pay. She suffered and Vivienne did not hesitate to help her. The tanks were also finished with the rest of the Venatori and quickly ran to the mages for help. 

"Damn you, Dhara!" cried Bull, bewildered, slaying one by one. The fight was over and so the ghosts disappeared and slightly exhausted and woozy Dhara tried to recover from the dizziness. Vivienne gently grasped her shoulder.

"Are you all right?"

The elf nodded and took a deep breath. At the time she found it hard to recover from the sorry, but by now she only needed a short rest and she was back in top condition. 

"I understand now why you don't like to use this power. This suffering, I have seen it in your eyes."

"It's like witnessing the deaths yourself, you experience the history of people and animals. Sometimes this can be a bit much for an elf like me, but I can get through it, I can control it to some extent." she continued to explain and was so surprised by Vivienne's astonished look that she cocked her head to the side with a questioning look. The first enchantress was amazed - with respect and fear at the same time.

"You are stronger than you think Inquisitor. This power bequeaths you to something great."

"And menacing at the same time." added Dhara and they continued their march.


	5. Date

The Inquisition has had a busy few days and more than deserves a break. Dorian noticed that Tamsin had seemed very restless and nervous since this morning - he didn't even make a sound. "How hiemnisful" the Tevinteran thought to himself. In the evening he looked for the elf, but there was no sign of him. Sera only said, "He's stretching his legs, needed some time to himself," and chuckled dirty. Dorian just shook his head mischievously and gave up asking questions - Tamsin is and remains Thedas' riddle today. He picked up his leather bag and before he could pick it up a piece of paper flew gently to the floor. 

"Oh what's this?" he asked himself in amazement and picked up the piece of paper.

"Meet me at the big Halla statue. The one not far from camp. - Tamsin."

"Well, well, well." Dorian smirked and twirled his moustache. He glanced at Sera and Blackwall, who were already giggling sheepishly yet cheekily. Dorian fanned the note back and forth and laughed. 

"You knew about this!" he stated and with a muffled laugh and without further discussion he walked straight to the meeting place. The emerald graves were like his second home to Tamsin. The green leaves glowed vibrantly when the moonlight shone on them and the river glittered like the stars in the sky. Only a few metres away from Dorian, he spied a golden light near the statue. Dumbfounded, he put his hands on his hips and was astonished.

Tamsin was sitting on a blanket with one leg bent and pouring wine when he saw Dorian. Spread out next to him were various fruits - grapes, apples, strawberries. It wasn't much, not particularly ostentatious but a very pleasant surprise for Dorian. He sat down with Tamsin and took the cup he had been handed. 

"A moonlit picnic, I had no idea you were such a hopeless romantic, Amatus."

Tamsin chuckled and poured himself some wine in his goblet as well.

"I must confess, Cassandra helped me a little with that. I thought we should spend some time together again - alone."

That seemed more than fair to the Tevinteran. After all the long marches and the absence of the Inquisitor, it was all he had wanted for the moment. They toasted and sipped the wine. Tamsin glanced a little puzzled when he saw Dorian looking so thoughtfully into the distance. He leaned towards him and gently stroked his arm. Dorian grinned - the tingling, gentle sensation of the elf's gentle fingers on his skin were like magic to him when it comes to cheer him up. Tamsin proudly flashed a grin.

"Well..there you go." 

His fingers gently slid up his arm to his chin, guiding Dorian's gaze to his lavender eyes. Without avoiding Dorian's gaze, Tamsin set the goblet aside and stroked his cheek. He felt Dorian rest his head lightly on it and caress the back of Tamsin's hand with his.

"We will have such wonderful moments more often, I promise you. I missed you."

Tamsin guided his chin towards her and gave the Tevinteran a soft, passionate kiss. Dorian felt his heart almost leap out of his chest with joy and when their lips slowly parted again he leaned his forehead on Tamsin's and closed his eyes.

"I missed you too, Amatus."

Tamsin smiled faintly and the two enjoyed the rest of the evening in blissful togetherness in this enchanting place.


	6. Chaos

Cullen closed the door behind him and leaned against it with a relieved sigh. "The meetings are getting longer and more nerve-racking," he remarked to himself and briefly touched his forehead. He walked to his desk and put down his papers. A brief smirk crossed his lips as he briefly thought about the incident that had occurred on his desk a few days ago. 

"That was a bit of a mess, wasn't it?" he remarked, his thoughts drifting further away as he imagined his Inquisitor lying on that table. Flustered, he cleared his throat and blinked away. He noticed that there were several papers jumbled, criss-crossed on his table. "Strange...I left the desk differently, what a chaos." he thought, raising his eyebrows in wonder. His desk was not always tidy and full of documents, but when he leaves his desk tidy, the commander all too rarely forgets that. 

Still puzzled, he cleared the mess and sorted the documents. The scrolls on one side, the loose papers on the other. When everything was back in place, he turned around and leaned against the edge of the table. 

A short scream echoed. The soldiers looked outside at the door when they heard a loud clatter. Cullen leaned awkwardly on the edge of the table while his legs supported him slightly crossed off the floor. He quickly scrambled to his feet and turned around quickly in shock. The papers and scrolls lay slightly displaced on the tabletop, the inkwell shattered on the floor and a large black stain now graced the floor. 

"By the Maker!" He wondered in shock and examined the table. "That can't be, the table is sturdy, isn't it?" he remarked to himself - Of course the table was sturdy, it could hold two people on it. Suddenly, Cullen slipped again as his foot rolled over a wooden orb. Again there was a rumble from the office and the soldiers slowly became aware of what was going on and started to mumble. 

"Damn it what the hell?!" he yelled out and saw a orb rolling in front of him not far from him and the table legs. He stood up and took it in bewilderment.

"What is that?" he asked angrily, looking at this strange object more closely. "This piece must have been placed under one of the table legs between them!"

Angrily he stood up and looked at his table again. "Great, do I get to clean everything up again...and this spot on the floor comes in handy." he thought to himself sarcastically, leaving the office with a slight limp. The soldiers were startled to hear their Commander literally tearing open the door and roaring like a lion. He lifted the wooden ball and looked angrily and reproachfully at his soldiers.

"Who was that?" he asked, but the intimidated soldiers were silent as lambs. "Who-Was-That?!" he asked again, his eyes glowing fearfully. One of the soldiers trembled slightly and stuttered nervously, trying to avoid Cullen's gaze. He ran towards the soldier as if he was about to tear him apart like prey. 

"Was that you?!"

"N-no commander. I-I just saw that the Inquisitor and someone were in the O-office for a moment. I-I swear to Andraste!!!" he stammered on- thank the Maker he didn't wet his pants at that look of wrath from the Commander. 

"Sera..." said Cullen quietly, baring his teeth. The soldier agreed with a slight nod of his head and watched Cullen all but stomp down the stairs to the courtyard, waving the wooden ball back and forth.

"SERA!" he bellowed loudly on his way to the cheeky elf. 

When he was out of sight a couple of soldiers chuckled softly and the one frightened soldier breathed a sigh of relief and put his hand on his chest. He felt someone patting him on the shoulder and he turned around. A female soldier stood next to him and took off her helmet for a moment, giggling cheekily.

"Well done, that will keep him busy for now. Told ya it will be a funny day!" Sera continued to laugh and put the helmet back on.


	7. Crafting

Estrid Cadash knew her handicraft. Instead of sitting on the throne for days on end and passing judgement, she preferred to spend her time with Harrit doing her craft. She got on very well with the professional blacksmith and the two enjoyed exchanging ideas. Estrid knew a lot about ores while Harrit taught her a lot about Fereldan blacksmithing. 

For a few days she had been working on something small, something very delicate. The hammering of metal, the small engravings which she carefully applied, also made the old blacksmith curious. He peered cautiously but the dwarfess did not let him see even a small tip of it. She took a cotton cloth, polished the strange something and leaned back in relief. 

"By the ancestors I'm finally done!" she sighed happily and suddenly jumped up, proudly showing Harrit what she had actually fabricated. 

"Harrit look!" she stretched out her arm and her blue eyes sparkled like the ornament she had just made. It was a small pendant that looked like a griffon. There was a stone set in the middle. Harrit was amazed and with a cautious gesture he asked if he could have a closer look at the pendant. Estrid stretched out her hand further and grinned so proudly that even the Maker could have been blinded by it. The intricate work on the wings, the detailed depth it gave to the piece of silverite - a jewel. 

"What is that stone in the pendant?" he asked in amazement, watching Estrid's eyes flash with pride - a little too much pride.

"Oh that is a topaz my dear Harrit! Topazes are supposed to give a person the energy to keep their nerve and stay focused!"

Griffon, focus, silverite...Harrit got close to the reason or rather the new owner. He handed the jewel back to the dwarf and grinned archly. 

"Are you trying to flatter him?"

Estrid looked indignant, but the blush on her face revealed it. It was a gift for a certain grey warden - for her grey warden. She scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. Even though she was so bubbly and full of joy, the big bear made her nervous, made her heart race steadily. 

"Mhmm maybe. He does so much for the people here on Skyhold, especially for the children he always carves such little statuettes of knights...so I want to give him something too. Nothing practical, he deserves something special too. But when..." she enthused and her dreamy digressive gaze was immediately awakened by the creaking of the door. They both glanced over and as if Andraste had her fingers in the pie there - it was Blackwall. 

He descended the stairs and Estrid quickly hid the pendant in her cloth pouch before the Grey Warden could spy it.  
"My Lady-" he greeted the Inquisitor and bowed low to her before greeting Harrit. He could not not return her gaze and peered up briefly at the completely flustered dwarf. She watched him, thinking about when she could give him his little gift and carefully listened to his deep, husky voice.

"Harrit would you have a whetstone left? I gave mine to the commander and..."

Harrit was an old curmudgeon at times but seeing little Cadash so insecure he hummed a little chuckle and peered over at her.

"I'm afraid I've already passed the last ones on to a few soldiers. But maybe Estrid has one left for you."

"Harrit, you little..." she thought to herself. How cheeky the curmudgeon could be - he does it on purpose she thought to herself. Blackwall gazed over at her and his gentle, discreet smile made her heart shoot through the air. 

"I-I'll check on in a bit..I-I'll come by later!" she stuttered like a small, nervous girl and saw the grey warden nodding at her in agreement. 

"You are too kind my Lady. Thank you." he said goodbye again with a bow and left the workshop. 

Pouted, she stared at Harrit, her eyes narrowed, crossing her arms tightly to her chest. Harrit shrugged his shoulders with a smile and patted hers.

"I think the question of 'when' has only been clarified, Inquisitor!"


	8. Shirt

The Brecilian Forest has demanded everything from the Grey Wardens. The bogs, the thickets, the musty ruins littered with cobwebs and other crawlies. After hours of thorough polishing, it was Freydis' turn to take a bath in the small lake. Relaxed, she lay there all alone in the water and dozed a little. 

"Oh..." she sighed with relaxation and opened her eyes - time to go. Slowly she waded through the water to the lawn. Startled, she noticed that her clothes and towels had disappeared. "What the-" Her eyes grew large, her eyebrows knitted together - She guessed someone was trying to play a trick on her, but who?

Who would have the courage to infuriate the rugged warden with such an action. Freydis continued to look around but there was no trace of her belongings. When she was about to give up hope, she saw a white piece of cloth hanging in the undergrowth. Relieved, she quickly waded over and was bitterly disappointed when she saw that it was only a small cloth with which she could at least wrap her hair into a turban. 

"Freydis, how long are you planning to stay?" she heard from offstage, but she didn't listen any further. Looking slightly frantic, she continued to search and her heart pounded in panic. "I can't walk around the camp naked," she muttered to herself, annoyed.

"Freydis?" the male voice sounded again and she knew it was Alistair's voice. "O-one moment Alistair, I'll be done in a minute I'm just...looking for something." She called back and continued to wade around the lake. "You won't find a treasure in that little pond!" he quipped, hearing only a sarcastic "haha" from her shouted from the distance. With slight impatience, Alistair waited behind the tree, folding his arms like a bodyguard. He watched Dexter playing with something from a distance. On closer inspection he recognised a linen shirt - completely dragged through the mud and soiled. The other towels were no longer salvageable either, as muddy as they were also lying in the mud puddle. And that's when it clicked for the warden. 

"Oh you holy maker." Alistair states in his shock and turned all red in the face as he imagined Freydis naked for a brief moment. He cleared his throat quickly and shook his head.   
"Uhm Freydis? You wouldn't by any chance be looking for your fresh clothes would you?" he asked with a slightly rhetorical undertone and Freydis quickly waded to the other side of the bank hoping that Alistair had found her things. 

"Oh Alistair I'm so grateful to you-"

"Look at Dexter." he interrupted her and Freydis could hardly believe her eyes. Her Mabari was never such a cheeky rascal. Bewildered and in shock at the same time, the warrior just couldn't help herself. 

"Bloody hell..." she grumbled and Alistair did not miss her subtle cry for help. Without hesitation he took off his linen shirt, which he had to take off anyway, and stretched his arm out behind the tree, waving it back and forth.

"It's a bit sweaty, I'm afraid, but it should do as far as the tent."

" He wants me to put on his shirt?" She thought to herself, her heart pounding. She still hesitated to get out of the water.

"But don't peek yes?"

"Yes I swear by the Maker." Alistair promised in slight impatience and felt her wet hand on his as she took his shirt off. Freydis pulled his shirt on - It was visibly too big for her but covered everything important. A little damp and wet at the back, the warden walked at a fast pace to her tent. 

"Thank you Alistair, I'll make it up to you I promise." she said fleetingly and continued walking. 

"No Prob-" 

Alistairs glanced at Freydis walking past him and his face was as red as a strawberry and his head as hot as a furnace as he watched her. With each step she took the shirt slid up a little so he could see her round bum a little. He stuttered softly to himself:

" Maker help me. This is the finest restitution I have ever received."


End file.
